


In Hindsight I Know You Better

by D1ona30



Series: The Time Traveler's Husband [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry is not a speedster he only time travels, Barry is not the Flash, Character Death, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Lewis Snart's A+ Parenting, M/M, The Time Traverler's Wife AU, Time Travel, Time Traveler AU, again nothing graphic, it's their life, just a guy who can Time Travel, mentions of child abuse, nothing graphic, sorta - Freeform, time traveler barry allen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 01:10:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20921690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D1ona30/pseuds/D1ona30
Summary: The first time isn't the first time but just like every time, it's always them."It’s such a strange thing to have to come to terms with, that Red's love for him has reached out and twisted their timeline enough that it’s a circle now. There isn’t an end or a beginning."





	In Hindsight I Know You Better

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all so I posted a part of this fic back in December thinking I wasn't ever going to get around to finishing the whole thing Well I did or at least enough that I can post and stop picking it apart.
> 
> A couple of things: I tagged Lewis and I think that tag speaks enough for itself. The beginning starts off a bit rough but I promise it gets better.
> 
> Barry is not a speedster, he just Time Travels.
> 
> Okay, that's it. I hope you enjoy.

**Len 8, Barry 27**

It's Len’s birthday and all he got from his Dad was a fat lip and the announcement that he was going be a big brother before the end of next year. 

Apparently, he hadn’t shown the right amount of enthusiasm at the news so Lewis tossed the cake his step-mom had made at the wall and smacked him across the face. It wasn’t like he wasn’t excited, he was just surprised and distracted by the prospect of spending the night at his Granddad’s. Well, that hadn’t happened after all; he’d run-up to his room as soon as Lewis was done with him, with his voice booming, “You aren’t going anywhere until you show me some Goddamn respect!” He eventually slipped out the window when he heard the snores coming from downstairs, signaling that Lewis had drunk enough to pass out. 

He hasn’t been home for almost a full day and he knows he’s pushing it. If he isn’t home by tonight his Granddad will bug Lewis until he reports him missing and if that happens they’ll be hell to pay. The number one rule in the house is to not get the police involved. Didn’t want to “_ stain Daddy’s good image. _” He just isn’t ready, enjoying this last bit of freedom, considering it a birthday present to himself. 

He spent the night huddled in the alley behind the small grocer, his long-sleeve t-shirt and worn-out jeans do little to combat the chilly weather. He doesn’t really mind it though, it helps him fight the exhaustion and it has a numbing effect to the bruises on his face and arms. They're not as bad as one’s he’s had before but they are the worst thing he’s ever gotten for his birthday. He pulls the sleeve over the fingers of his left hand, the right holding the chocolate bar that serves as his breakfast. He didn’t want to be like Lewis but he was so hungry and that asshole behind the counter was too busy trying to scam the old woman into buying more lotto tickets then notice what Len was doing.

He tastes blood on his next bite and tongues the cut on his lip but the scab is dry and scratchy. An excited, “HOLY SHIT, I DID IT!” Catches his attention and a tall skinny guy comes tumbling out the bushes.

Len narrows his eyes, looking at the man out of the corner of his eye, stuffing the rest of the chocolate in his mouth and getting up to leave.

“Hey wait,” the guy calls after him and Len picks up the pace but the man is older with long legs and easily catches up to him. Bony fingers grab him by the shoulder and Len spins on his toes, knocking the man’s hand off him with a snarl.

“Don’t touch me,” he warns, hand instinctively goes to his jean pocket, he’s got a little switchblade hidden in there. One of Lewis’s finer parenting moments, giving Len the knife for his seventh birthday. 

The man is tall with wild brown hair, large eyes and a bright red jacket that matches the color of his cheeks. He holds up his hands, palms out, clearly trying to project that he isn’t a threat to Len, “Hey, sorry, sorry. I just wanted to talk,” his eyes sweep up and down Len, narrowing when they settle back on Len’s face, “Wow you are young.” He sags a little, dropping his hands back down.

That doesn’t make Len feel any better, slipping his hand into his pocket to curl his fingers around the knife, “Not too young to kick your ass.” The guy takes a step back in shock and Len’s chest swells with pride, he wishes his Dad could see him, see how tough he is, maybe next time he’ll think twice about going after Len.

The man tilts his head to the side, “Hey what happened there?” He asks, pointing at his Len’s mouth. 

“Nothing,” Len denies, tongue going to the cut on his lip automatically.

“Did he, did he do that?” The man swallows around the words, face looking pale like the word actually hurt him to say.

Len narrows his eyes, he’s talking like he knows Len, knows who hit him, and he doesn’t trust this dude at all, “What’s it to you? You some rich goody-goody? Thinking they can come around here and save the poor kids?”

The man shakes his head, looking worried and sad, “I wish I could help you but it’s against the rules, our rules.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” His shoulders tense up, feeling like a coiled snake ready to strike.

“It means…” he scratches the back of his neck with one hand, while the other stays slightly raised, “that you’re not alone and we, well Lisa and I and other’s,” he pauses, eyes brightening for a second, “Hey where is Lisa?”

And Len can not keep up, “Who the hell is Lisa?”

He gets a confused look instead of an answer and his own question, “How old are you?” he takes a step closer, leaning down. 

“None of your business,” Len snaps at him, stepping back while pulling the closed knife out of his pocket, it’d take just a simple flick of his finger and the blade would pop out. But it’s enough for now, the guy eyeing his hand carefully and standing back up and away.

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right.” he placates, adding, “I guess I wasn’t as accurate as I thought,” mumbling that last bit to himself.

Len’s had enough, “You’re fucking nuts.” He says to the man and turns to walk away.

“Red!” He hears called out towards his back.

He ignores the stranger, slipping the knife back into his pocket and turning the corner, mumbling the word to himself and wondering what the fuck the color of the dude's jacket has to do with anything.

By the time his next birthday rolls around, he’s got a brand new cut on his lip and a brand new baby sister, named Lisa. He holds her tiny fist in his hand and wonders about that man, that man who knew her name, that man in red. 

**********

**Len 14, Barry 37**

It’s always cold in these rooms, Len thinks they do it on purpose to mess with the men and women they bring in here, keeps them on edge and uncomfortable all the while slowing their heart rate down, making the metal table and chairs even colder prickling any bare skin that comes into contact with it. It was just a little B&E he shouldn’t have gotten caught at all. Hopefully, he’ll be able to walk after Lewis gets his hands on him. All this because he was a pushover and Lisa admired that damn heart-shaped necklace, wasn’t even worth all that much, but she’d batted those blue eyes at him, one of the only things that mark them as siblings and he’d been too easy. She didn’t have much joy in her life, Lewis mostly ignoring her for now, which was a blessing more than a curse in his opinion but what does he know about little girls and their constant need for love and attention. He was barely into his teens and he was just supposed to be her brother, not her pseudo dad and now with these cuffs around his hands, a social worker just outside the door and the cops breathing down that woman’s neck for answers, she’ll be left alone with that monster and it was all because of his big stupid soft heart. 

The taste of metal floods his mouth and he spits on the scuffed linoleum floor to try and get rid of it, there’s a faint thump noise behind him and a puff of air across the back of his neck, “don’t move.” He knows that voice, it’s that man, Red, he’d called himself. No matter how long it’s been he’d recognize that voice anywhere and that’s impossible because all of that had been a dream, he’s sure of it.

“What the fuck?”

“Shh, just listen, I can’t move, the camera’s, it's just me, Red. I’m sorry,” the words are whispered right behind his ear and the warm air tickles the hairs on the back of his neck, causing him to shiver. 

_Fuck this,_ Len thinks, “Show yourself,” he growls, he tries to make it sound deep but it sounds almost like a kitten and he hates himself a little bit more.

There’s the sound of movement behind him and then tapping on his thigh, he looks to his left and there he is, crouching on the floor wearing that same Red jacket and jeans, green eyes apologetic and smile lopsided, “You look older.”

Red huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head, “Look, I gotta make this quick, I can already feel the pull and I really can’t be caught in here.”

"Right,” Len drawls, rolling his eyes, he doesn’t trust this guy.

Red scans his face and his eyes are so intense that Len wonders if he should add, mind reader, to the list of this guys abilities, “So you’re a Time Traveler right?” he asks the most obvious question first, it’s a little hard to believe, part of Len still thinks he might be crazy and hallucinating this dude.

“Yeah, I am. I swear it. I know it sounds crazy but I am and I really have to apologize, because you, a future you, made me promise to never mess with your timeline but I had too. I’m really sorry okay.”

Now, Len thinks _this_ dude is crazy, which is a mind fuck in of itself because he appeared out of nowhere and so far Len is the only person who has seen him, so does that make him double crazy? Maybe he should ask the social worker to get a shrink in here. 

“Look man, I have no fucking clue what you are talking about but if you’ve messed with my life in any way you are really fucking lucky I’m cuffed to this damn table,” he may only be 14 but he’s already been in enough fights that he knows he could kick this guys ass from here to next week and he has some scars to prove it. He tenses his arms, rattling the cuffs and slamming his fists down to make his point clear, the loud bang echoes loudly around the small room and Red’s eyes widen in surprise and a hint of fear, _ good._

He shakes himself out of it quickly much to Len’s disappointment, “Like I said I’m sorry but you don’t know what happens, what he does. She told me, got so drunk but you don’t know and I swore I wouldn't tell,” his eyes are filling with tears and when he blinks they spill and Len’s stomach drops with what the guy isn’t saying.

“Shut up,” he snarls, Red snaps his mouth shut instantly wiping at his face.

He coughs once, clearing the emotions from his throat, “Okay, so nothing much has changed, things are moved up but from what I can tell it won’t affect much, just be you and it’ll be fine. _ She’ll _be fine,” he says meaningfully, “Actually better, way better, you’ll thank me for this one day, maybe, if you remember,” he trails off, chuckling to himself. Len has a vague idea about what that means but he’s more focused on the part where it sounds like Lisa is gonna get the better part of the deal and that soothes him to his very core. He decides to tell the guy that, give the man a break, “As long as she’s okay, I can handle anything.”

“Yeah, I know,” and then the man tentatively pats his shoulder, hand moving slowly so Len has the time to move away if he wants; and that more than his words prove that Red knows him, or at least knows him enough to know about his aversion to touch and his deep love for his sister, so he allows it. He doesn’t even cringe when it happens, he leans into, it calms him, more than even a hug from Lisa does and that’s just too fucking weird for him to even analyze so he doesn’t.

“Thanks, Red,” he says, nodding his head at the guy as he moves back behind him.

“See ya,” is whispered back and then there is this strange sucking sensation, his shirt fluttering backward and a stillness that wasn’t there before and Len, sighs, the room feels even colder without the man’s presence. 

The doorknob turns and a woman pops her head in, it’s the social worker and she says she’s got some news and Len braces himself for the future to come.

**********

**Len 17, Barry 43**

It's a Tuesday night, well after lights out and Len lays awake waiting. The taste of copper is the only warning he gets before Red pops into existence. He sits on the floor opposite the bed, back against the wall while they talk, well, Len talks and Red listens. Occasionally he’ll offer up tidbits but nothing that may affect Len’s future. It’s a complicated process but somehow they make it work. Len can’t give this up after Mick got released and his promise to Red and Lisa that he wouldn’t break out. Red’s the only reprieve he gets from this place and if it wasn’t for him also promising to come every Tuesday he’d have broken out ages ago. 

Tonight been a good night, actually got the Time Traveler to giggle at a stupid joke he heard one of the fellow kids in juvie tell another kid. It’s so late, later than normal, his brain is turning to mush but he wants to push it, see how long he can last. But it can’t, his eyes are fluttering, sleep finally trying to claim him. He’d been awake a lot longer this night. Desperately trying to keep Red there for just a few minutes more, before he disappeared, going back to the time he’s from. He reaches out, grabbing the man’s jacket sleeve, red jacket, like the name he’d given all those years ago, “Thanks for listening,” he says instead of goodbye. 

Red shrugs, “you're welcome. I guess. Not like I have anything much to say.”

Len chuckles, shifting to his side, pulling Red closer to him, he goes with the motion, hip resting against the metal bed frame, “I know you can’t tell me anything about the future, but still, thanks.”

Red smiles kindly down at him, “No problem, Len, it’s why I’m here,” his free hand reaches towards Len but stops, fingers twitching like its a struggle to just let it fall back down to his side. “I really should go, let you get some sleep,” he adds, shaking the arm Len has a hold of. 

Len’s grip loosens but only enough to slip down and grab the man's hand, tugging him closer, he won't budge though, keeps himself rooted to the floor, Len looks at their hands, his grip firm around the Time Travelers fingers, “I already know?”

“Know what?”

“That we're together,” 

The detention center is never really quiet, even this late at night, possibly going past midnight at this point but still with the concrete walls and metal bars everything echos. The shift of the other juvenile offenders in their metal cots, some snoring, some sobbing, the guard's shiny shoes clacking on the linoleum floor but none of it is as loud as the Red’s sharp intake of air drowns it all out and Len knows he got it right.

“What are you talking about?”

“In the future, you and me are together. In love and all the shit that goes with it.” He releases Red’s hand, rolling over onto his back, crossing his arms behind his head, letting the man step back from the bed, face dropping into a mask. He doesn’t have to be able to read the old man’s face to know what he’s feeling.

“I don’t know where you got that idea but either way I’m not going to have this conversation.”

Len has to cover his mouth to hide his laugh, not wanting to draw attention to them. He knows Red would be gone before a guard would reach them but Len isn’t ready for him to leave, not after this revelation.

“See, right there, that’s confirmation enough.” Red shakes his head, mouth opening up to speak but Len pushes on, wanting to shout but keeping his voice calm and even, “I may be a kid, Red, but I’m not an idiot. You’ve been coming to me since I was 9. There are only a few reasons for you to be coming to me for so long.” 

Red cuts in, “What if we’re just really good friends?”

“So you do this, for all your friends? Going back in time to fix things or keep them safe? I thought you said time travel was tricky and you couldn’t just pop around changing things all willy nilly?”

Red chuckles at his words, he may be a grown man but he’s still a child, Len rolls his eyes, “You’re words, not mine.”

Red bites his lip, nodding his head but doesn’t say anything.

“So if we aren’t really good friends, then what are we Red?” Len’s sitting up now, legs crossed on the bed and back up against the cool grey wall. 

“Maybe I’m married to Lisa?” he asks, sounding unsure even to himself.

Len makes a face, “Yeah, I doubt Lisa would be all for you keeping me locked up, even if it’s ‘for your own good’” He actually air quotes it. He isn’t happy about being here but Barry swore up and down that it was the only way and he couldn’t change more than he already had.

He finally looks defeated, like he’s run out of excuses, “Fuck Len, I can’t discuss this with you, any of it. I shouldn’t even be here.” He clutches at his head, pulling his hair, “I could really be messing this up. I have to go.”

“No wait, I’m sorry, don’t. Look we can forget I said anything. I’ll forget.”

Red shakes his head, “No you won’t. I shouldn’t have stayed, I shouldn’t have kept coming back. I’m so sorry, Len. Goodbye, I’m sorry.” He steps away from the bed, stepping away from Len, hands going to fists at his sides, he closes his eyes tight, concentrating, getting ready for the jump.

Len’s off the bed in an instant, wanting to reach him before he’s gone. He wants to grab him, keep him here, just that much longer but Red’s gone. Len’s left alone in his empty cell, plain walls mocking him. He slumps back down to his bed, curling up on his side, he won’t cry, refuses. He knows Red will be back, he always is. This isn’t the first time they’ve argued over the future. He’ll be here on Tuesday, like always.

Tuesday comes and goes and there is no Red. Len tries to keep up hope that he just forgot but every week, Tuesday comes and still no Time Traveler. Six months later and he gets out at 18 getting ready to meet up with Mick. In all that time Red never returned and Len starts to forget, well not forget but rather ignore, lock all that up and push it to the back of his mind. He’s got bigger things to worry about like planning his first job. 

**********

**Len 25, Barry 21**

It’s been so long since Len last saw the Time Traveler, that he’s started to think he made the guy up, some imaginary friend that his broken and abused mind had hallucinated into reality. So, when he tastes copper and sees a familiar head of brown hair he checks to make sure that the guy is really there. He slides up to Mick’s side at the pool table, knocking him with his elbow, “You see him?”

Mick looks up from his pool cue, eyes sweeping the room, pausing before taking his shot, “Who?” He sinks his ball, smiling in triumph. 

“That guy there, the brunette, sticking out like a sore thumb.” He gestures with his head to the man. He’s wearing a red sweater vest over a white button-up in this grungy biker bar for Christ's sake, maybe Len really is making him up.

He’s looking for his next move so it takes him a moment to answer, “Oh yeah, got a pretty face won't last long in here,” he finally answers and Len feels the tension leave his body, he scans the room himself and sees that half the patrons are eyeing the kid. He’s talking to the bartender who shakes her head at him, he slumps in his seat and the woman drops a glass with ice and soda in front of him. He sips his drink through a straw, chewing on the end, he looks like he’s jailbait and too young to be in a place like this but it just makes him that more alluring to the clientele. 

“I’m going to talk to him,” he announces, placing his cue stick back on the stand.

Mick straightens up, not even taking his shot, “What about the game?” He asks, hands waving to the money placed for their bet. 

“You win,” he drawls. He grabs his beer before walking away from his friend. 

Mick will find something else to occupy his time. Which he does rather quickly before Len has even made it all the way to Red. “Anyone up for a game?” he asks the room, slapping a twenty on the pool top, several guys shoot up, ready to take on the gruff man. He hears Mick laugh and knows everything is fine, it’s not the first time they’ve ditched each other over a pretty face. Though Len doubts this will end all that pleasant for him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asks the boy, forgoing any pleasantries. He hasn’t seen the guy in half a decade, he’s allowed to pissed.

The guy’s face lights up like a Christmas tree when he looks up from the bar top, “Holy shit it’s you!” 

Len takes a step back, loud voice startling him as well as seeing him up close, he’s younger than Len has ever seen him. It’s weird, he’s always been this older, untouchable man but now he looks fresh and almost new, eyes bright taking in Len’s face like he’s been starving for it.

“Yeah it's me,” he says, cooley, not letting the surprise show on his face.

“How old are you?” Red asks, eyes still filled with wonder, roaming up and down Len’s body, drinking him in.

“How old are you?” He flings back.

Red scratches the back of his head, hazel eyes darting away, lip caught between his teeth, “I’m not sure I’m supposed to answer that. You said not to share too much.”

Len can’t hide his reaction to that, eyebrows rising in shock, blue eyes growing wide, “I said?!”

Red nods his head, lips pursing and brows downturned, a wrinkle forming between his eyes, “Yeah, you’re always telling me what to do, giving me freaking rules. No talking about the future, no talking about the past, no drinking, jeez worse than my Dad.” He ends that statement by yanking the beer out of Len’s hand and taking a swig.

“Can see you’re really good at listening,” Len says, eyeing the kid skeptically, there is a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead and he seems to be listing a little to the left. 

He shrugs his shoulders, taking a larger drink this time, Len tries adamantly to not watch the way his Adam's apple bobs, he doubts he was successful with the boy’s next words, “Maybe I’m just a bad boy in need of a spanking.”

A raise of an eyebrow is the only reaction he allows himself and brings them back around to their previous conversation, “So you know me then, from the future?”

Red shrugs a shoulder, peeling the label off the now empty bottle, “Maybe. As I said, I’m not supposed to talk about that.”

Len’s head hurts, he grips the bar top until his knuckles pale, he’s pissed that he’s getting the runaround but he feels fainter than anything else. He can’t comprehend what he’s hearing, how such things are even possible, “You’re fucking with me?”

The kid laughs, “No, but you want to?” he answers with a waggle of his eyebrows and an obscene lick of his lips, he’s ridiculous. 

Len shakes his head to clear it. “How long do you have?” He asks, wanting to get them out of here, he needs answers and he can’t get them here, not with people looking at Red like they want to eat him and definitely not with the bartender eyeing Len like she’ll call the cops if he so much as raises his voice at the kid.

“I really shouldn’t stay long but it’s my birthday and I wanted to go somewhere fun. I honestly didn’t know you’d be here. I don’t know how I keep finding you?” He’s looking distractedly over Len’s shoulder like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle he can’t see. Len can sympathize.

He grabs the guys hand, tugging him off the barstool, “Come on, we need to talk.”

Red follows willingly, almost too eager to follow Len, stumbling over his feet as he goes. It just shows how odd everything is, no one should trust Len this easily. 

He pulls Red outside and around the back into the alley. He doesn't want to talk there but it's a shortcut to a building they've been renting out. He's barely got them around the corner when Red shoves him against the brick wall, eyeing his lips before just diving right in. 

A shock of electricity shoots through him at the first point of contact and Len breaks the kiss long enough to tongue at his bottom lip and whisper, "Shit Red." Before the young man is attacking his mouth again. 

He only gives himself a second to be surprised before tilting his chin up and opening his mouth to Red's insistent tongue. Red moans, licking his way inside Len’s mouth. His tongue is sloppy and uncoordinated and he tastes like stale beer and vodka, it’s kind of off-putting but he’s been dreaming about kissing Red since he was a teenager and he can’t bring himself to stop.

Red pulls back from the kiss, mouth an angry frown, “I really hate you sometimes,” he hits Len in the chest with a closed fist, then slumps forward to kiss him again.

Len tilts his head back to break the kiss, Red just moves his lips down across his chin then jaw, “Really?” he asks, pushing his hips into Red’s, feeling his erection pressing against his own, “Seems like you like me just fine.”

Red laughs, warm air blowing across Len’s ear, playfully biting his jaw, “Yeah, I like you but I also hate you, hate this.” All the air rushes out of him, falling forward, resting his forehead on Len’s shoulder. Len can literally feel the arousal leaving the man’s body, dick softening where it’s still pressed against Len. “It’s like I don’t even have a choice.”

Len stands frozen, back pushed against the cold brick wall, hands still gripping the boy tightly, worried he’ll up and disappear, which he might at any moment, that just makes him tighten his grip until the boy whimpers. “What are you talking about?” He asks, dumbly, he knows, he does. He’s had this same conversation with himself when he first realized how he felt about the Time Traveler.

“This, us, we ...I think we always end up together, like it’s a circle and its great and I love it, love you,” that catches Len off guard, throat closing, he’s always known but it’s not something they talk about, ever. 

Len laughs, dark and humorless because this is so very wrong, so very fucked up for Red to be saying this to him, pushing Red away from him, he feels cold and hot all at the same time. “You think you don’t have a choice? I’m not the time traveler here. You are!” he shouts, rounding on the man, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “You come to me, remember? Not the other way around.” He’s seething, breath coming out in harsh pants, “You’ve been coming to me since I was a boy! All-knowing and strong and powerful and all-consuming. Always there but never staying. ‘Fixing things’ as you see fit,” emphasizing the words with fucking air quotes of all things, “And I’m left behind to deal with the fallout. And you think you have a right to complain.” He turns away, has too, doesn’t want Red to see the tears clouding his eyes, he slams a fist against the wall, the pain distracting him from his anger.

He feels Red come up behind him a tentative hand reaching out to gently smooth out across the top of Len’s back, it helps more than it should, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” Red tries with a gentle voice, “I’m not him yet. I haven’t done those things.” Len can’t help but snort in derision. “You know, I could say all those things about you,” Red slips his hand forward across his chest, other arm coming around Len’s waist, holding him, “I know it’s not the same but when I was a boy, I would go to you, a much older version of you but it’s still you. I don’t know how I did it, how I could even find someone I hadn’t even met yet but I did.” He rests his cheek on the opposite shoulder, words whispered over the pulse in Len's neck, “I mean hell, even now I haven’t met you. I wasn’t even looking for you tonight, I just wanted to go somewhere in the past to just look around. I concentrated on a year and poof,” he says, can’t help talking with his hands even when they're wrapped around Len, hands splaying out in an explosion the movement pulling him closer to Red’s chest. Len reaches up and grabs his hands, keeping them still. Red places a swift kiss to his cheek before continuing, “and poof” he repeats, much softer, “here I was at the same place in time as you. See, as I said, don’t have a choice,” he finishes, shrugging his shoulders, holding Len that much tighter.

Len sighs, deep and long, all fight leaving him, “I guess neither of us does. Fuck time travel.”

“Yeah, fuck time travel,” Red says into his neck, burrowing his face there, his eyes are wet, Len can feel the tears on his skin, “I’m still sorry though.”

Len nods, pulling one of Red's hands up to his face to kiss across his knuckles, “Apparently it’ll all be okay.”

Red laughs, kissing the side of his neck, “I really do love you, Len. I know it’s way too soon and we haven’t met for real, but I do. I can’t seem to help it, no matter the timeline, I do.”

“I know, Red, I know,” he wants to say it back but he wants to wait to tell the real Red when he knows his name.

“Hey, I know what will make you happy,” Red says into his ear, warm breath tickling the tiny hairs, “How about I break a rule and tell you my name.” Len can hear the devilish smile in his voice, he should tell him, no, that he can wait but he tenses up in anticipation.

Red breathes in deep and Len feels a static charge run through the hair on his body, “It’s,” and he’s gone,

“Goddammit, Red!” he shouts to the empty alley, tongue flicking out to run over the small burn he can feel on his lip.

**********

**Len 27, Barry 18**

It’s a boring day, Len sitting on his couch drinking beer and watching a game on the TV when the hairs on his arms stand on end, the taste of copper in the air and a young-looking Time Traveler is suddenly there and launching himself across the room at Len.

“Whoa, what is this?” he asks, startled, grabbing the boy around his hips before he causes either of them harm, slender legs straddling his lap and long fingers gripping his upper arms.

“It’s my birthday! I’m an adult! Finally, I’m old enough,” he squeezes Len’s arms in excitement, giving them a brief shake.

“Old enough for what?” Len wonders, arching an eyebrow, leaning back against the couch giving himself some space.

“A kiss,” Red sing songs, tilting his face down, eyeing Len’s lips with open want.

“Nope, not happening,” he starts pushing the kid off his lap moving to stand up.

Red fights him, tightening his knees around Len’s hips, nails biting into his shirt, “Why not?” he protests, “You’ve been promising for years, saying when I’m older! I’m 18, it’s my birthday, please.”

Len shoves him, all attempts at being gentle with him gone in a blink, the kid lands with a thud on the floor barely missing the coffee table with the back of his head, “Listen and listen good,” Len growls, leaning down, invading the guys space and not in a fun way, “I, me, here and now,” he points to his own chest, “did not promise to kiss you, I have never promised that.” He stands up, moving to the kitchen to get something stronger to drink, leaving his beer to grow warm on the table.

“But it’s my birthday,” he hears coming from the living room, he slams the cupboard in the kitchen, marching back out with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“Consent is a real fucking thing, kid. And I have not given it, no matter what my future selves have said. You’d do well to remember that.” His grip on the bottle tightens.

The Time Traveler is up, frustration marring his young face, “Always the fucking same thing with you. I’m tired of it.”

Len laughs, “You’re not the one who has a jailbait time traveler, harassing them every damn spare second of his life.”

Red cuts him a scathing look, “Fuck you, I’m not jailbait. And if this you won’t kiss me, I’m sure I can find a you that will.” he closes his eyes and grits his teeth, stomping his foot when nothing happens right away, Len would laugh if he wasn’t so angry, and then the air gets sucked out of the room and he’s gone.

“God Dammit!” Len shouts throwing the bottle.

*****

**Len 27, Barry 18**

“Fuck,” he groans the taste of copper is back, it surprises him because it’s never come back this soon. Maybe he’ll get lucky and it won’t be the same Red that was here before.

The time traveler makes himself known with a thump and a groan, laying on the ground cradling the back of his head. Len ignores him for now, cleaning up the last of the broken glass, dumping the pieces into the trashcan in the kitchen. He’s still pissed, no matter what version has shown up, that was an expensive bottle of whiskey.

When he comes back into the living room, Red is still laying on the floor, eyes glazed staring unseeingly up at the ceiling.

Len sighs, annoyed, it’s the same Red as before, clothes and young face giving him away, “What do you want now?”

“We’re married,” is what he gets for an answer. 

Len steps around him to take a seat on the couch, “Are you really surprised?”

Red turns his head to look him in the eye, “You’re not?” He sounds shocked by Len’s response.

“Well no, you’ve been coming to me for years and from the sounds of it, you still do, even after we are together. So no I’m not surprised.” Len shrugs his shoulders, clapping his hands together, in for a penny, in for a pound, “I’ve already fallen in love with you and come to terms with it, considering we haven’t officially met yet, so what’s left to be surprised about?”

“We have kids,” he adds, pushing himself off the floor to sit down next to Len on the worn couch.

“Now that, that does surprise me,” he stutters, sinking back on the couch, scratching his head. 

Red props his head on his hand, elbow digging into his knee, watching Len carefully, “Why does that surprise you?”

“Just never figured I’d be the type, not with my history,” he waves his hand but doesn’t elaborate and for once Red doesn’t push.

“Wanna know their names?” Len’s grateful for the distraction from that line of thought.

“We have more than one?” the shock and amazement clear in his voice and face.

The Time Traveler giggles happily, clearly enjoying himself, “Yup,” popping the ‘p’, “Boy and a Girl.” His grin is infectious and Len matches it effortlessly.

“If that’s the case, you don’t need to tell me. I’m pretty sure I can guess.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah, Mick and your mom probably,” he answers easily.

From the drop of his jaw, Len can tell he’s right. 

He smirks, pleased with himself, “Knew I’d be right. Sadly we’re too predictable.”

Red sighs, nodding his head, “yeah I guess we are.” His eyes shift away from Len, glazing over for a moment. He sits up, flexing his fingers, times almost up it seems.

His face is serious when he turns back to Len, voice carrying a weight that should be beyond his years, “Look, this is all kinds of fucked up but it’s my birthday so even if you won’t kiss me. I just want you to know that I love you too. Even if we haven’t met,” he smiles shyly, “yet.” he adds to mimic Len’s words from earlier. 

Len doesn’t stop himself from carding his fingers through Red’s hair, just as soft as it looks, cupping the back of his head. He sits up, pulling the younger man in and giving him a chaste closed mouth kiss, “Happy Birthday.” He says when he pulls away.

Red smiles big and bright, cheeks tinting sweetly, “Thanks, Len.” He presses one quick kiss to Len’s lips, biting his lip smothering his giggle and then he’s gone. Len sighs placing his hand on the warm spot he left.

**********

**Len 31, Barry 23**

It’s too hot and sticky in his room to sleep, he needs it though, for the past week he’s been getting up before dawn to watch the security guard shift change at the bank across town. It’s taken longer than usual, it seems the bank has hired a few new guys so the time table is a little skewed with them either being late or early and Len is afraid he’ll have to postpone the job till things get settled. Mick thinks this is the perfect opportunity with everything in disarray but Len knows better, likes things timed out down to the last millisecond if possible. 

He tosses the blanket and top sheet aside, climbing out of bed to turn the fan on. He stands underneath it, removing his shirt and sleep pants and letting the cool air dry the sweat on his skin. It feels good, the swirling air making the small hairs on his body dance, tickling him, it’s been a while since he’s shared his bed with anyone and the last person he even was able to get his lips on was a Time Traveler from the future. He runs the pads of his fingers over his lips at the memory. 

His cock stirs at the thought of the man, fuck it, he decides already mostly naked and it would help him get a better night's sleep. He could do this quick and dry but it’s been too long since he's even had time, even his showers lately have been mechanical. He lays down on the bed, directly under the fan, it feels too good to give up and grabs the small bottle of lube out of the side table drawer placing it on the bed next to him, he rubs his hand over his boxer briefs, enjoys watching the way his cock fills out, stretching the fabric. He closes his eyes, thinking of another hand touching him, a pale hand with long slender fingers, red puffy lips that zing when kissed. Len slips his hand under the cloth taking himself in hand, the slide is dry but he holds off on the lube, for now, letting his imagination run with thoughts of Red, wondering what his cock would feel like in his hand. Fuck, he can almost taste the metal that proceeds Red when he Travels and it’s a strong taste, surprised that his sense memory is so accurate.

A wet slap, a groan followed by, “Ack, what the fuck!” And, shit, shit, shit, he knows that voice, he hastily releases himself and grabs the bedding trying to cover up hoping Red hasn’t seen him.

His eyes have adjusted to the low light of the room but there’s no one that he can see. He won’t move, not when his cock still hasn’t flagged, “Red? Is that you?”

Finally, a disheveled head of brown hair pops up over the side of his bed and Len _ doesn’t _ jump, “Uh, yeah but I’m naked.”

Len doesn’t know if Red can see him but his eyes grow wide and he wonders if he fell asleep because this is not happening, “Why?” he asks carefully because if this is a dream he wants to see where it goes.

“I was taking a bubble bath and I traveled, uh here,” his laugh is self-deprecating and there’s a shuffle of movement and then Red’s waving a shirt at him, “I’m just gonna borrow this and maybe some pants?” It’s a question and Len really wants to say no but his erection has waned and now he knows this isn’t a dream.

“Sure no problem," he answers, "I got some towels in the closet too,” he adds with a wave of his hand. 

“Thanks,” Red says once the clothes are in place, standing up and grabbing a towel to dry his hair. Len’s a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see him nude but the clothes are sticking to him nicely and he can appreciate that view, it almost makes him flip on a light. “Did I wake you?” Red asks, seeing Len in bed.

“Yes,” he lies, something bumps against his thigh and he pushes it away without thought and recognizes his mistake at the slow rise of Red’s eyebrows.

“Really? Doesn’t look like it,” he teases, picking up the bottle off the bed, twirling it around in his fingers, the same ones Len had just been fantasizing about.

Len shrugs a bare shoulder, “Eh a man has needs,” he confesses, unashamed leaning back on his elbows, letting his eyes roam over the Time Travelers long lean body.

Red crosses his arms, the bottle of lube dangling between his thumb and forefinger, “then why’d you lie?”

“Because it’s really none of your business.”

Red opens his mouth, pauses, Len can see the gears turning in his head, “Okay that’s fair,” he finally comes up with and Len smirks, “So did you get very far?” and that’s bold but Len likes it.

“Actually no, was just about to start when you popped in. Naked, wet and pretty much every fantasy I've had since I was a teen.”

Red laughs, bright and happy, Len can see Red’s pants, _his pants_ starting to tent. He doesn’t have to catch up, he’s been hard since Red picked up the bottle of lube, “You know, I can take care of that, if you help me take care of mine,” Red eyes his crotch pointedly before looking back into his eyes.

Len thinks it over for a moment, trying to figure out where in the timeline Red is, “Wait, do you remember the bar?”

"I remember the bar, do you?" He asks like there was another one.

"Oh I remember Sparky, had a burn mark on my lip for days,” he gives Red a dirty smirk.

“Good,” is all he says before launching himself at Len, dropping the lube on the pillow. His arms go around Len’s neck, knees bracketing his hips then their mouths meet and the shock of electricity that passes through Red’s lips into his own shoots down his torso and through his cock, making it throb. 

Len grips the man’s trim waist, the fabric of the shirt bunching in his fingers, “Fuck, Red,” he complains, “Shouldn’t have even gotten dressed.”

Red laughs against his cheek, smoothing his lips down his jaw, biting his neck, “Call me Scarlet.”

Len cocks a questioning brow, “Is that your name?”

“No, sorry, just something different, a nickname,” he starts sucking a mark on Len’s neck but Len pushes him off, has to know, “Who gave that to you?” he knows he sounds jealous but he doesn’t care, he isn’t about to sleep with Red and call him some other lovers name for him.

Red’s warm smile shouldn’t appease him as much as it does, “You did, or I should say a future you,” he pushes against Len’s hold, going back in, licking his lips, aiming for a kiss.

“Fine,” Len relents, biting at Scarlet’s bottom lip, wants it as deep a red as his new nickname. It’s still a little strange, fighting against the urge to be jealous of himself but the name is better than Red, less childish, one made for a lover, one he made for his lover. 

Len kiss his way down Scarlet’s neck, pale skin damp with saliva, he pants heavily against the wet patch making Scarlet shiver in his hold. He can't help but bite down, leaving a set of teeth impressions just so he can feel the skin rise under his tongue.

Scarlet groans, rocking forward, rubbing his hard cock against Len’s abdominals, he’s leaking at the tip, making a small wet patch on the pants and it makes Len’s mouth water. He wants everything all at once, it’s a bit overwhelming.

“What do you want?” he presses the question to the hollow of Scarlet’s throat, tongue teasing at the collarbone peeking out of the top of the shirt.

“Fuck, Len, I want it all,” Len groans at that, Scarlet won’t stop the rutting of his hips, Len slides his hands down to the edge of the sweat pants, gripping him as tight as possible, he doesn’t want this to end just yet. 

“You’re not helping me out here, Scarlet,” he says with a drawl into his ear, the younger man trembles in his hold, “I need to know what you want so I can give it to you.”

“Oh god, Len,” the Time Traveler pleads, “I want you to fuck me, please. It’s all I can think about.”

Len moans at his words, biting the man’s throat once again, “I can fucking do that.” Scarlet groans, tipping backward off Len’s lap on to the bed. 

“Gotta get these off first,” Len tells him, tugging at the hem of the white undershirt. The brunette nods lifting his head and shoulders enough to pull the article off his body. He hesitates with his hands on the waistband of the sweats, looking nervously up at Len. 

“Come on Scarlet,” Len encourages, “I’m dying to see you.” Len scoots back to give him more room, slowly sliding his hands up Red’s thighs to help peel the grey material off his long, long legs. 

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he admires and it's true. Scarlet looks a vision spread out on Len’s bed, just for him, miles of creamy skin begging for his mouth, scattering of freckles like a constellation in the sky making a perfect path to follow and hair laying disarray across his comforter the perfect length for tugging. There’s a faint blush to his checks and along his chest, his cock lays hard and wet at the tip on his stomach. It’s just as red as the rest of him, he’s never known someone with such a fitting and dirty nickname.

“Scarlet you're positively Scarlet,” he teases and the young man kicks out with a gangly leg to nudge Len in the shoulder.

“Shuddup,” he starts but ends with a sob as Len leans down and licks a long stripe up his cock.

“Mmmmmmm, taste good too," he mumbles into the coarse hairs at the base. 

There’s a hand on his head when he finally gets the tip in his mouth, moaning around it, licking at the slit. He holds Scarlet's cock up with one hand, dragging his tongue up over his frenulum and glans while his other hand reaches around for the bottle of slick. 

He gets it open one-handed but has to let go of Scarlet’s cock to get some on his fingers. The young man is laying back, chest heaving and hand over his eyes, looking ruined already. Len smirks to himself, “Oh baby,” he soothes, running the clean hand up and down the man’s thigh, “don’t get too worked up yet, we’re just getting started.” He dips his hand into the crease of his legs, pushing one up and out so he can get his fingers on Scarlet’s hole. It’s too dark in the room to see it but his fingers find it easily enough, tracing the tense muscle, having to clench his jaw when he feels it flutter against the tips of his fingers. 

The first finger sides in easily up to his first knuckle and he arches an eyebrow up at his lover, “My, my, my sweet Scarlet, just what were you getting up to in that bath of yours?” he asks, mouthing at the knee nearest him.

Red tries to laugh around a moan, “The same thing you were, the only reason I take baths.”

“Hmmm,” Len hums, dragging the single digit in and out of his hot little hole, “Were you thinking of me.”

“Yes, always, always,” the man pants, licking his lips, hips wiggling down to try and take more of Len’s finger.

“Guess the universe wanted to give us what we want for a change,” he says, slipping a second finger along with the first, leaning down to suck a dark mark on the inside of his thigh, “something to remember me by,” he mumbles.

Scarlet keens, “I’m good, so good. Please, I’m ready, please. You don’t, Oh God Len,” he peels off on a loud drawn-out moan. Even though Scarlet insists he doesn’t need it, can take Len just fine, Len still works him up to three fingers, gliding them in and out of Scarlet’s hole. He likes this part, likes taking his partner apart with the same hands he uses to take apart a safe. Maybe Scarlet knows this about him, why his protest was so weak in his attempt to hurry them along, his hole practically sucking them in, like it’s been dreaming of having Len’s fingers inside, pressing ever so often on his prostate, milking him to an orgasm with Len’s other hand rubbing his cock to help him along the way. 

Pearls of white shoot from his tip, splashing on Len's stomach and Scarlet trembles around his fingers, cock softening in his hold. He flops back against the mattress, limbs loose from the strength of his orgasm.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” Len whispers between them, pushing himself up over the man and pressing their mouths together. 

“Yeah, okay, sounds good,” he replies, voice soft and shaky.

Len laughs softly, kissing him again, smiling while laying the boy back against the sheets, they seem to be roughly the same age, but the stretch of smooth skin and a light dusting of dark hair make Scarlet seem younger, blush still fresh on his skin, “Have you done this before?”

Scarlet frowns, “I am not answering that and you know it.”

“I just want to make sure I don’t hurt you,” He rests himself between the ‘V’ of Scarlet’s legs, hard cock feeling like a steel rod when it lays against Scarlet’s slight chub.

He rolls his eyes at him, “Just go slow and nobody is gonna get hurt, that’s how I want it, so it doesn’t matter either way.” Scarlet raises an eyebrow, giving Len a pointed look. Just daring to be questioned but Len really wants to get his cock in him so he wisely keeps his mouth shut on the subject.

Saying instead, “Baby, I’ll give you anything you want.”

Scarlet squeezes his shoulders, pulling him down for a quick kiss, “Good now give me your cock.” He locks his lean legs around Len’s waist, using a surprising amount of strength to flip them over with him on top and Len laid out below him, ”Mmmmm, this is nice,” he says grinding his ass back against the hard dick behind him, ”I like the view from up here.” Len groans gripping his thighs, skin pulled taut over the firm muscle. 

Len picks up the slick from where it's rolled on the bed, handing it over to Scarlet, ”Wanna slick me up, baby?” Red nods, licking his lips and taking it from his hand.

They both grow quiet while Scarlet pours the shiny liquid on his hand, the atmosphere feels heavy like the weight of all their lifetimes hang on this moment. Their eyes meet when Red takes him in hand and a dozen or so thoughts fly through his head. He doesn't know this man's real name but he's loved him for more years than he has not. They haven't even brought up condoms but there is already a gulf of time between them, neither could stand another layer. He wants this forever and can't wait to get his greedy hands on it. When the tip of his cock kisses at Scarlet’s entrance he stops thinking altogether.

There isn't much resistance and Len’s cock slides into the hot clutch of Scarlet’s body. ”Nice and slow, ” he finds himself saying. Red moans sliding a hand up Len’s chest and neck to cup Len’s jaw, thumbing at Len’s bottom lip as his ass comes to rest on Len’s hips.

Watery hazel eyes look down on him, wide pink mouth opening and closing trying to form words. Len rubs Scarlet’s cock back to full hardness while making soft shushing noises while the younger man calms, ”Just breath baby, feels so good. Come on tell me what you want.”

Red shudders, ”I, I, oh God Len, I love you, ” he finally says, falling forward to hide his face in Len’s neck.

”Fuck kid, ” Len quickly wraps his arms around the man, lifting his knees to pull him closer without dislodging his cock, ”I love you too, so much.” He kisses behind his ear, blinking the wetness out of his own eyes.

Red lifts his face to reach Len’s mouth, kissing the older man, biting at his lower lip to make him gasp, flicking his tongue inside to tease at him. Len rolls his hips making them both moan.

”Okay enough with all this mushy stuff, I wanna cum," Scarlet says as he pushes himself back up.

Len chuckles making them both moan, ”You already did.” He helpfully points out.

Red shrugs, ”Want to again, don't you?”

”Fuck yeah I do, ” he answers enthusiastically, giving Red’s ass a quick slap. It makes the young man jump and that feels too good so Len slaps his ass again. 

”Fuck Len, that's good, stop, lemme ride you, ” Scarlet whines and his cranky voice does things for Len.

Len lays flat against the bed, crossing his arms behind his head, ”Alright babe, show me what you got.” Once Red gets moving it becomes very apparent Len isn't going to last at all, _ fuck._

The way Red’s stomach muscles move as he rides Len has him hypnotized, he wants to lick them, run his hands over each little bump and ridge that form when he moves his hips but Len can't He has to keep his hands gripping the opposite forearms, head keeping them pinned behind himself. All he can do is stare, tongue heavy in his mouth, panting like an animal, _ god this feels good, wait no, amazing, that’s better. _

“Fuck,” Len groans after a torturous twist of Red’s body.

Scarlet whines down at him, ”Touch me, Len.”

Len shakes his head, “Can’t.”

“Why not?” Scarlet whimpers, bending over and resting his forearms on either side of Len’s head, hard cock rubbing against his abs.

Len has to grit his teeth against the pleasurable feeling around his cock, “Red, if I touch you, I am going to cum and I’m not ready for that.”

“Shit,” he keens, “that shouldn’t get me hot but it does,” he giggles, sitting back up, planting his hands on Len’s pecks, grinding down hard, making them both moan. “And I said call me Scarlet,” he corrects before picking up the pace of his hips, bouncing on Len’s cock. It’s too much, Len has to grab him, hold him down, fingers tight in the meat of his hips, “Shit, stop, oh god, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.”

Scarlet whines, “I don’t fucking care, I want you to touch me, make me cum Len, can’t come without you touching me,” it feels like an order and Len isn’t about to disobey him. 

He releases his hips but keeps his hands on the Time Traveler, skimming his hands over his torso and back, fingers digging into the muscles of his abdomen. He twists a nipple and Scarlet keens, hips slowing back down to grind and Len leans up to lick at the pointed nub enjoying the shudder that goes through the other man’s body. Slipping a hand around his waist to anchor him to Len so he can lick and suck at the pink buds all he wants, rocking his hips up to meet the downward motion of Scarlet's body. It feels incredible and Len wants it to go on forever.

“Len,” Scarlet sobs next to his ear, nibbling at the sensitive skin on his jaw, “I’m slipping.”

“No, not yet. We aren’t done.” He hugs the man tighter, hoping to hold him in place, in this time with him.

Scarlet shakes his head, “Well we better hurry, I want you to come in me. I want to see if I can take it with me.”

Len’s cock jerks inside Scarlet's body, “Fuck that’s dirty,” he laughs, breathless but he wants that too, hopes that in the future he’ll get a chance to ask. His hold on Scarlet tightens and he picks up the pace of his hips, dropping a hand down to grip Scarlet's prick, moving it in time with his thrusts.

“Come on, come on,” he whispers, pressing kisses along his jaw, “Wanna see you come, Scarlet, want you to come on me, to remind me.”

The man moans, tilting his face down to capture Len’s lips with his own, their both breathing too hard for it to be a proper kiss, teeth clashing in more of a bite but it’s enough. Scarlet tenses in his arms, eyes squeezing shut and letting out a puff of air, a sigh of relief and then he’s spilling hotly over Len’s fingers, clenching around his cock and Len’s done, emptying himself inside Scarlet's ass, biting kisses into his mouth, leaving teeth marks on his lower lip.

Scarlet doesn’t lay down on top of him, just rolls over to the side, letting Len’s cock slipping out of him with barely a wince of his face, “Fuck that was amazing.”

Len turns toward him with a smile, “It was, will have to do that again sometime.”

He nods, scooching over to drape an arm over Len’s chest, “We are definitely doing that again, and again, and again,” he laughs, placing a sloppy wet kiss to Len’s shoulder.

Len rubs the man’s back, pulling him closer, till they're pressed together along their sides, “Yes but next time, I’d like to know your name,” he doesn’t look down but he can see out of his peripheral that Scarlet is looking at him.

He opens his mouth to say something, maybe an apology or another excuse. Len knows and has heard them all but he doesn’t get to hear either or any because that vacuum sensation is back and Scarlet’s gone. 

He frowns, disappointment settling in, he ignores it, he’s gotten good at that over the years. The bed feels colder without the other man in it and he pulls the blanket up, hoping to finally gry some sleep, he reaches down the bed first just to check but he doesn’t feel any wet spot and he smiles smug, thinking about Scarlet somewhere in the future filled with his cum. He hopes he remembers to ask. 

**********

**Len 38, Barry 9**

It’s cold, fucking freezing, the black long sleeve shirt isn’t doing much to fight against it but he doesn’t mind, actually likes it, helps keep him alert and ready for anything that might happen. He may be only making plans but you never know when things might go sideways. He enjoys the cold more than others, definitely more than Mick, but the crying boy that just popped up out of nowhere certainly doesn’t. 

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, not again, pushes away from the museum blueprints he has laid out before him. He grabs the dark wool blanket off the back of the threadbare couch, swiftly making his way over to the kid.

“Here,” he says, wrapping the blanket around the boy’s small shaking shoulders, “know it’s itchy but it’ll help.”

The kid wipes his nose with the edge of the blanket, holding off tears long enough to ask, “Where am I? Where’s my, my mom?!” He doesn’t last, ending his questions with a wail, Len flinches away from the sound, he can’t deal with all the tears and snot but he’s gotta pull himself together and help the kid out. It’s hard though, Len’s never been very good with kids, even when he was one. The only kid he’d ever been good with was his sister, and well look how she turned out. 

“Want some hot chocolate? I got some mini marshmallows, I think.” the kid just wails louder, crying out for his mom. Len feels frozen to the floor, awkward and unsure. His only experience with crying kids had been Lisa but even at her worst, she hadn't been like this.

It feels weird to reach out and comfort him but he knows from experience a hug can do wonders. He can’t make himself do that though, so he lays a hand on Red’s small shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It seems to help, he’s still crying but he’s much quieter about it, which is a relief, Len can not handle a screaming child, plus the noise might alert any passerby that this warehouse isn’t as empty as it seems. 

He moves to push the young Red over to the couch but he remains where he stands, refusing to move from the spot, “Where’s my mom.” he pleads. Len isn’t sure what to say, Red confessed one night many years ago that his mom was murdered when he was 9, and he looks like he’s about that age now. He doesn’t know where he is on his timeline so he ignores the question, giving him a firm shove, the kids' knees buckling under the force feet moving toward the couch. It's not a long walk and as soon as his butt hits the seat the kid is repeating, “Where’s my mom?”

Len shakes his head, he can’t mess this up, can’t mess up the timeline, “What year are you from?” He asks instead.

The look the younger Red gives him, says it all, “You’ve never jumped before, have you?”

“What? Jump? I, I was at home. I don’t know how I got here.” His small fingers curl around the edge of the blanket, pulling it tighter, “I heard a noise and, and there was all this light, and a man. The man in the lightning.” his tiny body shudders, eyes filling up with tears, “My mom, she, she.” He can’t finish the sentence, tears spilling over, big fat drops, he sobs quietly this time, this is worse than when he was loud. 

“Shit,” Len mutters to himself, he can’t process this, the kid, Red, jumped to Len the night his mom died. What the hell does that mean? This Red, this young kid doesn’t know who Len is, they’ve never met. How the fuck would he even know to come to him. He rubs his face, needs to get a grip, “Okay look, I’m gonna go make that cocoa with as many marshmallows as I can fit into a mug and if you're still here when I’m done we’ll figure this out together.”

Red wipes his nose with the blanket again, Len does his best to hide his disgusted face. The boy calms down enough to say, “If I'm still here? Where am I gonna go?”

“Back, I suppose,” is all Len can think to say before he goes off to the small kitchenette in the corner. 

Red is gone before he’s halfway done with the hot chocolate, he makes it anyway, doesn’t want it to go to waste. He brings it with him to finish looking over the blueprints, wanting to get all the exits memorized before he heads to sleep but he can’t stop thinking about Red, all the Red’s, the ones he’s met and the one he hasn’t yet. Red has obviously messed with their timelines enough that even his younger self is reaching out for Len. It’s such a strange thing to have to come to terms with, that Red’s love for him has reached out and twisted their timeline enough that it’s a circle now. There isn’t an end or a beginning.

**********

**Barry 25, Len 42**

Barry’s just finishing up his report on the break-in from a few days ago when Eddie’s blonde head pops into the lab, “Hey Allen, got a couple of suspects we need you to process. And you won’t believe who it is.” An edge of excitement to his voice. 

“Who is it?” he asks, speeding up his fingers to finish the last few sentences, he turns his head to show he’s paying attention but his eyes don’t leave the screen.

“Captain Cold and Heatwave.”

Barry’s whole body just stops, the air gets stuck in his throat on a breath in, heart no longer beating in his chest, fingers paused in their typing, a string of letter M’s starting to fill the screen. The whole world slows down around him at the realization. Finally.

Everything starts up again, letting the air go and hitting the backspace button, clearing his mistake, “Oh, really? Well, I’m sure Joe and Singh are happy about that. Just give me a minute to finish this up, grab my bag and I’ll be right down.” He feigned nonchalance, if it was Joe he’d be able to tell something was off but he and Eddie are still getting to know each other, the man more focused on Iris. 

Eddie nods his head, “Just hurry, everyone’s anxious about these two, they're slippery as hell.”

“Yeah, I will.” 

As soon as the door closes Barry just slumps over his desk, hands on his head, “This can’t be happening, not like this,” he says to himself. Maybe he’s wrong, god does he hopes so. When he first heard of Captain Cold and saw the pictures. The man had looked familiar but with the parka and goggles he couldn’t be sure and to be honest he didn’t want to believe it, refused. But then the fingerprints found at one of the bank robberies had led to a mugshot. It broke his heart, he had cried that night. Torn between the person he has been in love with since he knew what love was and his job and his family. 

He decided that following morning over soggy cereal and burnt coffee that the Len he knew wasn’t the man in the picture, well he was but he also wasn’t, as confusing as that is. And besides, they hadn’t met yet so he had plausible deniability. But none of that matters now. Now he has to gather up his gear and go process his future.

They ask him to process Cold first since Heatwave is still giving them problems. He wants to be grateful for that, should be, because Mick Rory is one scary guy and even with Barry’s time traveling, it's still too unpredictable to be of any use but he doesn’t want to see Len, not under these circumstances. 

Len’s been put in an interrogation room and Barry pauses outside the door, hand poised over the handle, wondering for a moment how they ever get to where they end up if this is how they met the very first time.

“Scared kid?” the older cop asks chuckling at his hesitation.

Barry shakes his head, “No, just making sure I got everything I’ll need.”

“Sure,” he teases, holding the ’U’, “Even some of the more seasoned officers would be afraid to be in a room with Ole’ Captain Cold, here.”

Barry frowns, the man he knows isn’t scary at all, well not much anyway, “Well I’m not, he’s just a man.” He tosses back while opening the door.

He walks in with his head up and lets the door fall back behind him with a click. Len isn’t even looking up, just staring at his hands, covered with brown paper bags taped around his wrists and cuffed to the metal table. He still has the parka but his goggles have been removed, they’re probably already bagged somewhere and sent up to the lab. 

To keep himself calm Barry starts going over the steps he’ll need to take to properly process Len and catalog all the evidence. At some point, he’ll need an officer to help uncuff him so he can take the parka to be processed later. As for now, he’ll start with his hands.

He coughs into his fist to get the man’s attention but he still won’t look up, mouth turning down into a scowl, “You just gonna stand there like a scared little boy or are you gonna do your damn job.”

There are a few different ways that Barry could approach this but before he does anything he better get the most important thing out of the way, “Have they read you your rights?”

Even with his head down, the confusion is still evident, “What? Why’s a little geek like you worried about that?” He finally looks up, eyebrow cocked and mouth set in a mean sneer. If Barry wasn’t watching him so closely he would have missed the way Len’s face flickers before setting back into place.

“Did they read you your rights?” he asks more firmly, clenching his jaw and staring the felon down.

Len purses his lips, calculating, eyes narrowing like he can’t trust Barry.

And for a moment Barry thinks that maybe he can’t, maybe he doesn’t even know who Barry is but then he remembers that night and everything else, and yeah, Cold knows exactly who he is, “They did and I asked for a lawyer right away, what of it?”

With a sigh all the tension drains right out of Barry’s body, “Thank God, now we can actually talk. I mean I’m still gonna process you, it’s my job,” he says with a shrug, “but at least no one can listen in without serious, and I mean job ending serious repercussions.”

He places his kit down on the table across from Len and watches the way he tries to sit back but the cuffs catch him at the wrists and he grunts, giving in and leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table, “Any chance of uncuffing me?”

Barry shakes his head, “I can’t, no key, sorry.”

“Can’t you just,” his wrists moves and the bag crinkles around his fingers, “pop over and get them.”

Barry barks a laugh, sitting down in the vacant chair at the other end, “Nope, doesn’t really work that way. But at least now I know that you know who I am.”

“I know who you are, Red,” he says with a curl to his lip.

“It’s Barry, actually, Barry Allen.” He doesn’t look at Len when he tells him, just opens up his bag and pulls out his camera, notepad and a pair of gloves.

Len hasn’t said anything so Barry focuses the camera and snaps a couple of pictures of his covered hands, checking his watch and then writes the date, time and suspects name on the evidence sheet. He slips on the gloves quickly before moving forward. He uses his pair of bandage scissors to carefully cut the tape so he can remove the paper bags when Len speaks, voice no longer having that sarcastic edge to it, more like the Len he knows, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Barry Allen, I’m Leonard Snart but I suppose you already know that.”

Barry pulls away quickly to muffle his laughter, “Yeah it’s nice to meet you too, always been my dream to meet my future husband by processing him as a suspect in a murder.” His mouth turns down at the end, humor leaving him completely. He goes back to work, removing the bags and placing them in a separate evidence bag, sealing it shut, writing the time, date, suspect name and his initials on the bag. It’s tedious but Barry likes it, all the same, knowing the more meticulous he is the less chance of letting a criminal getaway and less chance of putting an innocent person in prison. 

“It wasn’t me,” Len tells him, sounding as sincere as a career criminal can while Barry snaps pictures of his hands, his palms and then the tops, zooming in on his fingers. 

When he sets the camera aside he’s rolling his eyes, “Sure it wasn’t. I’m no idiot, I know who are and what you’ve done. I read your files.”

“I’m serious,” the man says, fists clenching, rattling the chains.

Barry sits back, putting his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay, I believe you. Let me just do my job and the evidence will speak for itself.”

Now it’s Len who rolls his eyes, “Like it did for your Dad?”

That hits and Barry knows that Len knows that, and that pisses him off more, “Hey man, I’m a way better CSI than the hacks who worked my Dad’s case, besides they were all out to get him anyway. Make their job easier just to pin it on him.”

Len raises his eyebrows, “You don’t think that’ll happen to me? Most of those cops out there would love to see me go down for this, Hell there's probably a couple that would be more than willing to plant some evidence.”

Barry clenches his teeth, he can’t even deny that Len’s right, there are a few dirty cops out there, Joe's been working his ass off trying to bring those guys down but, “Well you got one thing going for you. I’m not out to get you. Actually, I would rather you didn’t go to prison. So as long as you didn’t do it, you don’t have to worry about the evidence.”

Len cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders, “Doesn’t matter anyway if I get sent away it won't be for long.”

“Oh god,” Barry groans, “I don’t need to hear about any planned prison breaks.”

Len just chuckles, “Fine Barry, I’ll keep that to myself.”

Barry bites his lip, seeing that his next step calls for him to touch Len, he hasn’t touched him in years and even then it wasn’t this Len, “I need to scrape your nails, I’m gonna take your hand now.” He lets the man know, following the procedure, though he’s pretty sure Len isn’t going to get him into trouble.

He allows Barry to take his hand, straightening it out so the fingers are over a piece of evidence paper to collect anything that may fall out, he uses the scrapper on his pinkie first, then dropping into a test tube, labeled “right pinkie” then grabbing another scraper and moving to his right ring finger, “So is Mick you’re partner in more than just the criminal way?” Barry asks awkwardly, focusing on his task and not on Len’s piercing blue eyes.

“Why are you jealous?” Len asks, voice dropping into that smooth sarcastic drawl that sends a pleasant chill up Barry’s spine.

“I’m just asking,” he pauses in his work to play with one of Len’s thumbs, rubbing the pad of his gloved finger over the shiny nail, his face is heating up, he can feel it warming underneath his skin.

“You’re positively Scarlet, Red,” he teases, Barry lifts a hand to his face, trying to hide it, looking up at Len, “Mmmm,” he hums, licking his lips, Barry watches the movement with rapt attention, “I think I like that name better. Don’t you, Scarlet?” He purrs, wetting his lips again, watching Barry follow his tongue.

God, he wants to kiss him, lean over the cold metal table and just take his mouth in his own, “Fuck, why did you have to get arrested? We could be making out right now.”

Len laughs, “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see who breaks first? You or me.” He says with a smirk.

“Break out you mean,” Barry mumbles, resuming his work. 

Len just laughs again, louder this time, it’s a nice laugh and it makes Barry smile but it has the unfortunate effect of drawing attention to them and the next moment they have an officer joining them. To Quote ”keep an eye on the suspect,” Barry’s pretty sure Joe sent the man in. He sighs and goes back to quietly doing his job, stealing glances at Len who sits their patiently watching Barry with those cool blue eyes of his never once leaving his face. It makes his cheeks heat up but Len seems to like it with the way he’s smirking at him. 

It’s not the worst first meeting they’ve had but it could have been better. 

**********

**Len 44, Barry 16**

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” 

Barry shrugs a slender shoulder, “Just wanted to see you,” he answers, sitting on the countertop, with a chocolate chip cookie in his mouth, legs swings and feet hitting the cupboards below, “Who made these? They’re good,” he asks, waving the cookie in the air.

Len’s not sure how to answer that, he’s not really supposed to tell this younger version about the future but it feels weird to lie to him, “My roommate,” it’s not technically a lie. 

“Cool, tell them I said thanks,” he shoves another cookie in his mouth.

“They weren’t for you,” Barry just shrugs his shoulders, not answering while he chews the treat, small favors that, “Didn’t you see the clock? It’s 8 o'clock in the morning, you should be eating breakfast, not cookies.” Len moves past him to start the coffee pot and then the fridge to grab the eggs.

Barry hops down and moves to sit at one of the chairs at the island, “Oh, well where I’m from it’s like four pm and I needed a snack, growing boy and all,” he adds, patting his stomach.

Len just rolls his eyes, “So when are you from, this time?”

“Uh, I'm not sure if I'm supposed to tell you that, I mean, I don’t know when you’re from and I can’t mess this up.”

“I’m from when I already know you.” He tells the boy, pulling out pans for breakfast, got to feed the kid while he’s here like he said he’s a growing boy.

Barry narrows his eyes, “How can I be sure of that?”

All Len has to say is, “Barry Allen,” and the kid knows he’s in the clear.

Barry bites his lip, pausing, “I’m 18.”

Len stops whisking the eggs, giving a side-eye to the kid, “Try again Allen.”

“17?” Voice going high and a tad bit squeaky

“Is that a question or an answer?”

“Ugh, fine, I’m 16,” finally being truthful, he slumps forward, resting his forehead on the tiled island top. 

Len chuckles, dumping the eggs into the hot pan, “Why did you lie? It’s not like I haven’t dealt with a younger you before?”

Barry groans, talking more to the tile then Len, “cuz you said you’d kiss me when I was older.”

There isn’t much in his life that surprises him anymore but that does, “I said what now?” 

Barry sits up, startled, green eyes wide in shock, “Oh shit,” realizing belatedly that it was a future Len and not this one.

Len grips the spatula tight in his hand, he’d like to knock some sense into his future self, this isn’t the first time he’s done something stupid and it’s worrying that even though he knows he makes these mistakes, he still does them. He’s a fucking idiot, he tries to remain calm for the boy’s sake, doesn’t want to make him feel worse, pretty sure he’s already beating himself up but still he can’t let it slide, “Barry you really have to be more careful.”

“I know,” he whines, “but you don’t look much younger then him and I’ve been practicing and I thought I got the time right.”

_ Practicing _! Len wants to shout but he can’t, as much as he wants to stop Barry from Time Traveling he knows he can’t, everything has already happened anyway. 

Len sighs, scrapping the eggs on to a plate, “Just be careful, okay.”

Barry nods, giving Len a crooked smile, “So will you kiss me anyway? I mean you said when I’m older and I’m older.”

Len shakes his head, “No Barry I’m not. I have not made that promise to you, he did, and even so, I’m pretty sure he meant when you weren’t still a teenager.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, crossing his arms petulantly. He brightens up, though, when Len slides the plate of eggs in front of him, grabbing a fork out of the cutlery drawer.

“Here eat some actual food.” Barry rolls his eyes but takes the fork offered to him.

An alarm clock goes off upstairs, both their eyes jump up to the ceiling, “Should I go? I mean, I don’t know if it’ll work but I can try.”

“No, you eat that and I’ll go talk to...my ...uh...roommate, warn them away for a bit.” He moves to make two cups of coffee.

Barry stops his eating to look up at Len, “They know about me?”

Len addresses him over his shoulder, trying to move quickly before they're caught, but still takes a second to choose his words carefully, “They know about metahumans and that I know one. And that sometimes they can’t be around me when you are here. That’s about it. They have their own experience with this stuff and that is all I’m gonna say to you about it.”

Len can feel the eye roll Barry is throwing his way. He finished the coffees and turns back to the kid, he still hasn’t resumed eating. Len sets one of the mugs down and places a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder. Touching him like this, he can feel how slim the kid is, how young and fragile his bones are, “Look, I know it’s hard, seeing glimpses of a future that you aren’t allowed to know anything about but I promise, you will get your kiss.” 

Barry turns his hazel-green eyes to look at him, “I hope so.”

Len sighs resolve crumbling he leans in and brushes his lips over the boy's temple. Barry leans into it, brown hair tickling Len’s nose. He can feel the uncertainty leave the kid’s body, sighing, slender fingers reaching up to grab his shirt sleeve. Len steps away breaking the contact and picking the mug back up. Barry turns back towards his plate, happy and pink-cheeked, biting his lower lip around a smile. 

Len’s pretty pleased with himself, getting that kind of reaction out of much younger Barry even at this older age, hearing the sound of metal against the plate, he nearly trips over his own feet, splashing coffee on himself when he realizes what he just did, promising a kiss and mentioning the future. He’s a fucking idiot. 

Later, when he’s upstairs snuggled up to his boyfriend, Barry just laughs at him, typical.

**********

**Len 45, Barry 14**

The cold water does little to help the erection still pressed against his the zipper of his black tuxedo pants. He splashes his face again, he tries hard to not be disappointed, he’d been practically begging Barry to stay, it was their wedding night for fuck sake but he’d still been sucked into time. Len wonders briefly where he went, the future or the past, he’d been pulled right out of Len’s hands. He’d had Barry pinned to the bed, hips bracketed by those glorious thighs, grinding dirtily against each other, pants straining, their mouths frantic and then Barry cursed and it had nothing to do with the mark Len was making on his neck, “I’m about to go.”

Len pulled off his skin with an obscene pop, “What?”

“Ah, I can feel it, I’m sorry.”

“No, stay, try.” He’d asked, voice wavering.

Barry whined, “I’m trying, fucking shit." His muscles tensed up under Len’s hands, face straining and then he was gone with that weird vacuum sensation. Len hadn’t been sucked in yet, he wasn’t eager to try.

Len turns off the faucet deciding he’ll just take care of the problem himself then torture Barry with it later. He grabs one of the hotel hand towels, wiping the water from his head, face and down where it’s dripped in his open shirt. He raises an eyebrow, smirking at the small spark that shocks his fingertips when he touches the brass doorknob.

He opens the door, cocky smile in place, a little swagger in his body as he opens the door and a seductive drawl to his voice, “Ah, Scarlet it’s so good of you to join me, I’ve got a problem I think you could assist me with,” giving his hips a shake at the end. He knows all the ways to rile Barry up and he just used all of them, well there is that one thing he does with his tongue but he can get to that one when their both naked.

“Who’s Scarlet?” Len chokes on his tongue, it’s his husband alright but he’s a kid, probably 14 or 15, doesn’t matter, he’s young way too young for what Len was hoping to do with him, his very adult husband.

He hastily buttons his shirt back up from when his Husband Barry had been here, slender fingers working to disrobe him as soon as possible, “No one.” He responds while Barry looks him over, growing suspicious, “Uh how long you been here?” Len asks before Barry can open his mouth.

“Not long,” Barry answers, eyes now looking over the room, he’s standing off to the side, leaning against the desk, “So why are you dressed like that?” he waves a hand at Len’s outfit and Len hasn’t ever been good at lying to this kid so he goes with some semblance of the truth.

“Here for a wedding.”

Barry nods, “Yours?”

Len bites his tongue, shaking his head, Barry just continues to stare at him, eyes searching and fuck this kid for being able to read him so well even so young, “Family friend.” he goes with.

Barry bites his lip and clenches his jaw tight, looking away for a quick moment before turning back to face him, “okay look, I can tell your lying. First, you’re bad at it,” Len would love to point out how false that is but he doubts telling this kid about his criminal record would be a good idea, “second, this room is huge and it has roses and champagne that’s just screams honeymoon and third and the most damning,” he stares pointedly at Barry, the preteen, but he just rolls his eyes, waving him off, “is that you have a very shiny and very big ring around your left ring finger.” He points at Len’s hand and yeah he does.

“Shit,” he curses and Barry just smirks in triumph before his face falls into a frown before trying on a hardened mask that doesn’t quite fit on his young face. And true to form he can’t hold it for long, fingers twisting and biting his lower lip. He wants to ask Len who his spouse is and where they are but he knows better than to ask, knows he isn’t supposed to know.

He’s smart enough to keep his thoughts to himself but he’ll always be curious, “Can I see the ring at least?”

Len figures it couldn’t hurt and it’ll just guarantee he gets what he wants in the future, “Sure kid.” He crosses the room, weaving around a cream-colored couch and a dark coffee table and holds his hand out for Barry to inspect. Len has to admit he is pretty proud of it, he’d basically designed it himself, it’s a line of blue sapphires set in bands of white gold, the sapphires wrap around the whole finger and he already loves the feel of them against his palm when he closes his fist, he doesn’t remove it and show the engraving that he had etched on the inside of their rings, “Forever & Always” is written in cursive. Barry’s ring is an exact match, he hadn’t wanted something so ornate but then the jeweler pointed out how they could get sapphires that matched Len’s eyes and then Barry was more agreeable to the whole thing. 

The kid grabs his hand and pulls it closer, small thumb gliding over the ring of “Wow, they must be rich if they can get you something as nice as this.”

Len laughs, he wants to tell him about how by now they have a joint account and are saving for a house with multiple bedrooms and this ring isn’t anything but a reminder to the world that they belong to each other but he can’t and he won’t. Barry has a lot to still live through, a heartbreak or two in his path and Len wants him to have them, he deserves to have as much normality in this weird mess they’ve made for themselves. Besides they get there in the end, it’s worth the wait.

**********

**Len 55, Barry 18**

There is always this strange tingle of electricity that makes his hair stand up followed by a sharp taste of copper when Barry appears from another time. He flips the pancake before looking over his shoulder at the Time Traveler. He looks agitated but before Len can ask him what’s wrong he says, “It’s my birthday.”

Len's eyebrows go up, “Uh, Happy Birthday?” he attempts, still unsure what that has to do with anything.

“I’m 18.”

“I see,” he says in understanding, moving the now done pancake to the stack on the counter, switching the stove off, before turning and addressing him, “So you came for a kiss, did you?”

Barry’s shoulders sag, a smile of relief overtaking his face, “yeah, I did.” he snickers.

Len would be happy to oblige him but he hears a pair of small feet running down the hall. Barry catches the sound as well, head snapping up to the entryway, her voice arrives before she does, “Daddy! Michael won’t let me pick the cartoon!” 

Len tries to stop her, calling out, “Babe, don’t come in here, go back to the living room!”

“But why?” she whines, ignoring him completely, coming into the kitchen and getting a good look at the younger Barry, and he, her. His green eyes are wide in shock seeing the little girl, taking in her Frozen pajama dress, brown hair down around her shoulders.

Len needs to get her out of the room, moving closer to her, shuffling her back towards the living room, but she’s quick, too quick for him, “Hey! You look like Papa? Are you his brother?” she asks, voice hopeful and excited to perhaps meet a new member of their family.

“Nora!” Len scolds, forgetting himself and Barry takes a step back, mouth dropping open, eyes flitting between Len and his daughter. 

“Len, Honey, those pancakes smell amazing.” And that’s Barry’s voice drifting in through the open hallway. They’ve fucked up now and the younger Barry looks scared out of his mind, mouth hanging open, tripping over himself to get away from the scene. Len pushes Nora back behind him and reaches out toward the younger man, “Just breathe.”

“That’s, that’s…” he points a shaky finger where the voice of the older version of himself came from, he stumbles again, leg hitting a kitchen chair and it sends him backwards. Nora screams but he’s gone before he hits the floor. 

“Shit,” he mumbles to himself. 

“Ooooh, I’m telling Papa, he said cursing was bad,” she mocks, turning back toward the hallway, forgetting all about the younger man. It’s the blessing and the curse that comes with her father being a Time Traveler, she’s too used to it.

“You can’t tattle on me to my own husband,” he says frowning playfully down at her. 

Barry comes into the room then, “What’s this? Why’s Daddy cursing?” he asks tickling Nora and making her squeal.

“I messed up, He, well, you, saw Nora and heard the kid’s names,” he waves to the spot the younger Barry was just standing before he got sucked back to his own time.

Barry picks Nora up, setting her on his hip, she snuggles easily into his side, resting her head on his shoulder, “Well, it’s done now. And besides, I do get my kiss,” he adds with a wink.

”What? You remember this?” he asks, scratching his head. 

Barry shrugs the shoulder that isn't being used as a pillow, ”I do and if you think about it, you will too.”

“Ugh, never mind I don't want to remember,” Len rolls his eyes, feeling the flush overtake his cheeks.

Barry’s smile turns devilish, “What’s the matter don’t want to be reminded of how much of a cradle robber you are?” he wags his eyebrows ridiculously, making Len groan.

“What’s a cradle robber?” Nora asks.

“Look what you're teaching our child. Get out of here before you scar her for life,” Len teases, waving them away with a flick of his wrist.

“Fine but hurry up with breakfast, we’re starved.”

“Yeah we’re starved,” comes a small voice, shouting from the living room, Nora nods her head in agreement.

“Come on lovey,” Barry says to her, “Let's go find a movie.” 

“One that I can help pick.” 

“Yes baby,” he answers, leaving the room and kissing her on the crown of her head. 

Len sighs to himself, at least he knows it all works out. 

**********

**Len 90, Barry ??**

Len wakes with a start, eyes darting from one corner of the room to the next, something startled him awake but he doesn’t see anything amiss in his room. He lays back down, an unsettling feeling creeping over his skin as he tries to relax back again. A rustling draws his attention and he sits back up, flicking on his bedside lamp, looking around the room again. Out of habit, he checks the right side of the bed but it’s empty and cold like it has these past 3 years. He still sometimes curses Barry for being wrong, thinking they’d be going together but it’s been years and he’s still here. 

The muffled whimper gets his old bones moving, throwing back the heavy quilt that Nora’s wife Abby had made for him for his last birthday, at this point in his life, it's his most treasured possession, he had cried when she presented it to him. It was made of all the shirts from Barry’s side of the closet, it helps keep him warm at night just like Barry used to and sometimes when it hurts the most he’ll spray Barry’s favorite cologne on it just to calm his nerves. 

He hisses at the first touch of the cold floor on his feet but forgoes his slippers because the whimper has turned to full-on crying and he feels a panic in his chest he hasn’t felt since the day he saw Barry collapse while doing the dishes. He rushes as best he can and what he finds lying on the floor at the foot of his bed almost sends him to his own grave. It’s a baby. He knows who it is instantly, bending over and scooping the small thing up in his arms. 

“Shh, shh,” he tries, cuddling the tiny thing to his chest, rocking him back and forth. He pulls the quilt off the bed and drags it towards the rocking chair in the corner, it’s old and worn with use but it’s the one piece of furniture they held onto from when the kids were born, the wood is faded and the cushion has been replaced many times but it’s like falling back into time whenever he sits in it. He hasn’t had much reason to use it recently, he’s unsteady enough on his feet that it’s easier to sit on the bed to pull his socks on when getting dressed but now with a small baby Barry in his arms it is a perfect time and opportunity.

When he’s finally got them situated, blanket laying over his lap and tucked best as he can around Barry’s small limbs, he rocks in the chair, giving his finger to Barry to wrap his tiny hand around. Len stares into the blue eyes of the newborn who’s blinking owlishly up at him, “I guess your mom did have a few secrets,” he chuckles. “I hope you aren’t gone from her long, I’m sure she’s freaking out.” The baby, Barry, smiles up at him like he enjoys being a pain, which for Len he did but he’s sure it’s just gas for the baby. Barry yawns, tiny mouth opening wide and arm reaching over his head, hand a tiny fist, Len smiles at how cute Barry is as an infant, “Tired little guy?” he asks, knowing he won’t get an answer. 

He moves the baby so he’s resting his head over Len’s heart, remembering the comfort it gave his kids when they were little, pulling the quilt up more to cover them better, “Sleep little one,” he says patting his back, “By the time you wake up, you’ll be back with your Mom and you need your rest. Got a long life ahead of you and it’s a doozy.”

He can feel the baby settling down, he kisses the top of his head, breathing in that “new baby smell” as Barry had always jokingly called it. He feels his own eyes grow heavy but he fights it, determined to stay awake to stare at the baby in his arms. It amazes him that after so long, even knowing what Barry can and will do, he realizes that their lives aren't a circle but an infinity loop. He is an old man with the newborn Barry in his arms, it’s startlingly clear, there is not a beginning, middle or end it’s just them, forever and always. 

********** 

**Barry 5, Len 70**

Tony’s been chasing him for a while, he’s already been knocked down once, dirt and damp leaves sticking to his clothes. He thinks he’s finally lost the creep when he turns the corner. He checks over his shoulder for his pursuer and trips over his own turned feet. He braces for the impact but it doesn’t come. 

The air flutters around him and he gets a shock throughout his body, like the time he wore fuzzy socks on the carpet and touched the metal door handle. It all lasts less than a few seconds and then he’s landing on a wooden floor and there is Christmas music in the air. 

He stands up brushing himself off, looking in awe at the Christmas decorations all throughout the house, an old man with a white beard and wearing a colorful holiday sweater comes from around the corner and Barry shout in excitement, “SANTA!?!.”

Santa scowls down at him and says, “The names Len.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
